Too Many Plot Bunnies!
by arwentheelf02
Summary: COMPLETE! What happens when plot bunnies raid your house. Told in 2nd person. Inspired by a different fic.
1. Part One

[A/n:] I got this idea by reading the real "Attack of the Killer Plot Bunnies", a Star Wars fic. You can read it by going to starwarschicks.com/sithchicks/fiction/bunnies1.htm (to see parts two and three, just change the number at the end). Thanks to Priya and Annie for BETAing.  
  
***  
  
Yesterday, you had seen Return of the King for the...7th time? 8th? Ah, you were losing count. Now it was Saturday, nobody was home, and you were itching to log on to fanfiction.net to write the next big hit. Something with intrigue! Romance! Suspense! Tragedy!  
  
But the only real tragedy was the emptiness inside your head.  
  
You decide to log on anyway, keeping the window up while opening a new word-processing document. The whiteness of the screen is intimidating. The cursor blinks at you as if to say, "Come on! Hurry up! The fans are waiting!"  
  
A rustle behind you causes you to spin around in your swivel chair. Your eyes dart around the room. Nobody was going to be home for hours. What was that?  
  
You finally spot it. On top of the TV is a bunny. He has a mop of curly, tan colored hair on his head. He is wearing a scarf, white shirt, trousers, and a green cape.  
  
You blink. And again. The bunny stares back at you. You had wanted an idea, but this...no! A nightmare! Anything but this!  
  
The plot bunnies had returned.  
  
And if you knew anything about bunnies, there's more where that came from.  
  
"Who are you?" you ask, trying not to sound as afraid as you feel.  
  
"I'm a Pippin plot bunny," he replies in the cutest accent you've ever heard.  
  
"And where are your friends? Don't lie, I know there's more of you."  
  
"They're, ahem, behind the TV." And before you can tell him to go away, they start popping out, some from behind, some from on top. You gasp. There must be 30 of them at least. And they all want to be written by you.  
  
Flattered as you are, you can't write all of them. You clear your throat. "I can't house all of you today, but I'll at least jot your plots down so I can get to them later."  
  
"Ok said a bunny in the back; you can't see his face, "but if you forget, we'll come back."  
  
Gulp. Time to get your rear in gear. "Ok, all," you shout, "Please line up in an orderly fashion. And if you can help it, no elf and dwarf bunny should be next to each other." After much chattering, and the occasional clang of weapons, there's a line of bunnies from your chair to the far wall. You start with the first one, the Pippin bunny whom you addressed before.  
  
"Ok, I know who you are already. What is your plot?"  
  
"After singing in Denethor's hall, I am picked up by an agent, and I sing all over Middle Earth."  
  
You resist the urge to put your head in your hands. THIS is what you're going to endure for the next few hours? But what can you do? So you type down his name, species, and plot and call, "Next!" The Pippin bunny hops away.  
  
You stare after him. "Where's he going?"  
  
The next plot bunny says, "To catch the cruise ship."  
  
"The WHAT?"  
  
"Well, after we're written down, we go to the Grey Havens."  
  
"Oh." You turn to the bunny that just spoke. He is big and brown, with chunky armor and a white mark across his face. You could guess who it is, but decide to ask anyway, just to be sure. "And you are...?"  
  
"I'm a Lurtz bunny."  
  
You type down "Lurtz. Species: Orc."  
  
You look back at him. "My ghost haunts Aragorn for eternity," says the Lurtz bunny, puffing his chest out.  
  
You faintly here an "EEK!" somewhere in the line that you assume is Aragorn. "Next!"  
  
A bunny with long, blonde hair hops up. She has a white dress on. "I'm Eowyn"  
  
Eowyn. Species: Human. "And your plot?"  
  
"After marrying Faramir, I become an entrepreneur."  
  
"Doing what?" You're afraid to ask.  
  
"Fencing lessons."  
  
Oh, boy. "Next!"  
  
Two bunnies move up. "One at a time, please," you comment with a sigh.  
  
"Um, we kind of have to go together."  
  
You squint at the bunny. It isn't just one bunny, but two. A Siamese bunny. "What...?" you begin to ask.  
  
"I'm the Legolas bunny," the left one pipes up. You can tell: long, blonde hair, green outfit, the whole bit. The other one has brown, curly hair under a big hat with a feather. His clothes are maroon and resemble fashions that would have been found in the 1700s.  
  
"I'm the Will Turner bunny," the right one explains.  
  
Ah. That would explain it.  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Part Two

Your next customer is a bunny who is dressed in pitch-black robes. He has a pointed crown on his head. "Are you the Witch-King?"  
  
"Yes," he says in a voice that makes many of the bunnies scurry for cover.  
  
Witch-King. Species: Nazgul.  
  
"And what do you do?"  
  
"I join the circus."  
  
All the bunnies start roar in laughter at him. The Witch-King bows his head in shame, nearly causing his crown to fall off. "Come again?" you ask.  
  
"Well, the trainers saw how well I can fly on a fell beast, so they thought I could give Oliphaunts a try."  
  
Good. Lord. "Um..," you say, choosing your words carefully, "ok. I'll see what I can do."  
  
Satisfied, the Witch-King hops away. The next bunny is an elf, but its hair is more whitish than the Legolas half of the Orlando Bloom bunny, and he looks older. His clothes are a silver-blue. "I'm a Celeborn bunny," he says with a graceful bow.  
  
Celeborn. Species: Elf. "Plot?"  
  
"Well, um..," he hesitates.  
  
"You can whisper it if you want."  
  
Celeborn hops onto your extended hand. You place him on your shoulder and his whiskers tickle you as he whispers, "I steal Nenya."  
  
Well, its better than joining the circus. "Ok," you say as you type.  
  
He hops off. You swear you can hear him go, "Precious, precious..." with every bounce. The next bunny comes your way. He's chubby, with grey clothing. He has a pile of light hair on his head. "Sam?" you ask. He nods.  
  
Sam. Species: Hobbit. You look back at him. "Your plot?"  
  
"My rabbit stew becomes insanely popular in Gondor."  
  
A lot of retching noises come from various places in the line. The noises turn to chattering. Pretty soon, the talking becomes ear-splitting.  
  
"QUIET!!!!"  
  
Dead silence.  
  
"Would you PLEASE all be patient! I'm doing my best to help all of you!"  
  
There's a murmur here, a whisper there, but that seemed to be quite effective.  
  
A graceful bunny is next. He seems to be not the least intimidated with your little outburst. Most definitely elf, but you can't put your finger on whom. "Who are you, mellon-el?"  
  
His face lights up, and he starts to blab in elvish. "Whoa! Whoa!" you say, putting your hands out, "Common speech, please!"  
  
He bows. "Apologies. I am Feanor."  
  
Ooh, a Silmarillion bunny. Should be interesting.  
  
Feanor. Species: Elf. "Plot?"  
  
"I open up a jewelry shop!"  
  
You hear a loud laugh from a bunny near the back that you recognize as Galadriel.  
  
The next bunny has a fat, grayish face with black armor. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm the overseer orc."  
  
"From Return of the King?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
You and your friend have a nickname for that one. You smother a giggle as you type: Pillsbury Doughboy. Species: Orc. "And I build an underground orc community and we take over Middle Earth! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"  
  
Like you were ever going to consider THAT one, but you decide to humor him. The bunny after Mr. Doughboy is short and stocky. A dwarf bunny, you realize. His fur is dark and long. "Gimli?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
Gimli. Species: Dwarf. "I help re-establish Moria, then I become its Lord." He flashes a cheesy smile. "I AM related to Balin, after all."  
  
Another bunny steps up. You take in a sharp breath. This bunny is completely bald! He has no clothes on save for a grey, torn loincloth. "Here's a shot in the dark...Gollum?"  
  
"Yes, precious."  
  
Gollum. Species: Mutated Hobbit.  
  
"We open up an all-fish restaurant!" he beams.  
  
"But, I thought you like only RAW fish."  
  
"We do, precious. So we have different styles of raw fish."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Raw fish, raw fish in soup, raw fish sandwiches, raw fish..."  
  
"ENOUGH!! I'd like to keep my lunch on the inside, thank you."  
  
You are still getting over that...experience, when the next bunny steps up to plate. He is tall with unkempt black fur. He's wearing grey-black clothing with a long sword at his side. "And you are?"  
  
"Strider."  
  
"Not king yet?"  
  
"No. Still not king."  
  
Strider. Species: Human. "And what do you do?"  
  
"Well, after trying to heal Frodo after the battle at Amon Sul, I go to med school and become a surgeon."  
  
Dr. Strider? Good Valar, save us!  
  
The hours drag on. After interviewing a Thorin bunny, an Arwen bunny, a Frodo bunny, a Galadriel bunny, a Saruman bunny, a Mouth of Sauron bunny, and an Elrond bunny, plus listening to the endless talking, you are about ready to rip your hair out. On top of everything, the Riders of Rohan bunnies started chasing the Grima bunny around the room. You are about to yell at them again when everything stops. You look down, and there is this huge bunny. He must be two and a half feet tall! He's a bleached white and wearing a white cloak with holes in the top for his ears. The cloak is so long you can't see his face. "Who are you?" you ask.  
  
No answer.  
  
"I need to know your plot."  
  
Silence.  
  
"What species are you?"  
  
No reply.  
  
"You make me sad," you remark as you attempt to look past him to see who's next. But the bunny speaks.  
  
"I have no plot," it says in a booming voice.  
  
Curious, you ask, "Then why are you here?"  
  
"I am here to collect these bunnies."  
  
Collect? "Who are you?"  
  
"I am the Eru Illuvatar bunny."  
  
The other bunnies gasp and bow to the almighty bunny. His booming, echoing voice speaks again as he points up at you. "You have taken my bunnies away from me."  
  
"No, I-"  
  
He raises a paw. "Enough. I am nearly finished here. But I warn you: Do not...do this.." he leans toward you, "Again."  
  
And before you can reply, the bunnies glow brightly and vanish.  
  
You breathe deeply and lean back in your chair, still staring at the spot where the Eru bunny had been. Did you imagine that? Are you going insane? What WAS that, anyway?  
  
Woah.  
  
Well, one thing was for certain: it sure cured your writer's block. So, slowly, you turn your attention back to you screen and save the document with all the plots. You want to be able to prove to your friends what happened. You open a new document and start to write.  
  
"Yesterday you had seen Return of the King..."  
  
THE END 


End file.
